


Evergreen

by Ally147



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, ever so slight angst, everlark christmas gifts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 13:56:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13272867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ally147/pseuds/Ally147
Summary: Five years of Christmas Trees





	Evergreen

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Day 5: 'Christmas Tree', over at Everlark Christmas Gifts on Tumblr

_5 years old_

 

It’s not a big tree. It’s not even a pretty one. Compared to the one near the council building her mum took her to see last weekend, it’s sort of ugly. Its branches are uneven, dry, kind of brown and flaking off everywhere. It didn’t even smell nice, like the pine trees in the woods. But when she came home from school that afternoon, there it was, waiting for her. Wrapped in tinsel and a strand of bright white lights, weighed down by baubles and tilting to one side from the heavy star on its top. A small cluster of presents sit at its base.

 

But it is _beautiful_. It’s the first Christmas tree she’s ever had. And with her Daddy standing next to it, with the biggest, widest, most excited grin Katniss has ever seen on his face, it’s her favouritest thing ever.

 

“You like it, Birdie?”

 

Katniss grins so wide it makes her cheeks hurt, and flies into her father’s waiting arms.

 

“I love it, Daddy!”

 

“I’m glad, Birdie,” he whispers, the prickles of his beard tickling the top of her head. “It’s gonna be the best Christmas ever, all right? Just me, you, your momma and baby Prim.”

 

Katniss nods into her father’s shoulder, breathes in his scent of pine and smoke. “The best Christmas ever.”

 

_11 years old_

Katniss keeps her head down as she walks. She ignores the excited chatter all around her, of holidays and presents and warm fires and hot drinks. There’s a hole in the bottom of her shoe letting in lots of tiny rocks, and the ground is frosted over. Prim’s shoes aren’t faring much better, but at least they’re still in one piece, for now. She’s got a week or so now, with the break, to come up with something, for both of them, but she hasn’t come up with anything yet.

 

And she doesn’t know when her mum is going to wake up and help her.

 

“Katniss?” Prim tugs at her sleeve. “Can we… can we go to the council building?”

 

“What for?” Katniss asks.

 

Prim rolls her eyes. The gesture’s almost normal. “To see the tree, silly.”

 

Katniss bites her lip. She should say no. She needs to be the responsible one now. But what’s waiting for them at home? A mother who can’t — _won’t_ — recognise them. No food. No warmth. No Christmas tree. No one who cares. As far as she’s concerned, there is no Christmas at home; their father died and took everything good about the holidays with him.

 

No. They can put that off a little longer.

 

So Katniss takes Prim’s mitten-covered hand in hers and takes them right, instead of left, into town, where the tall tree sparkles in the distance.

 

 

_14 years old_

There’s a small, wrapped gift sitting atop her locker. Katniss’ gaze darts from side to side, looking for the culprit but coming up empty, before she reaches up and plucks the parcel from its sitting place.

 

There’s a tag, shaped like a Christmas tree and as intricately decorated as a real thing, tied on with a silky green ribbon, but there’s no name on it but hers. No indication as to the sender; not even the handwriting is familiar.

 

She looks around again, making sure there’s no one watching. By the shelter of her open locker door, Katniss tugs the neat bow apart and sets the ribbon aside. Prim might like it. She sets about unwrapping the parcel, careful not to tear the beautiful golden paper.

 

Inside is a white box, covered in gold and silver stripes. The lid comes away easily, and she gasps at the contents.

 

Wrapped in a shroud of tissue paper is a dozen golden, star-shaped shortbread cookies, piped with shining, pearlescent icing. They look almost too beautiful to eat. _Almost_.

 

It’s been so long since she’s had something sweet. The past few years of her life haven’t lent themselves to anything more than the absolute essentials. There’s no space in their meagre food budget for something so frivolous as cookies.

 

But she gasps as she bites into one, closes her eyes and savours every chew. When she opens them again, she finds someone staring at her. Peeta Mellark, a little way down the hall, his cheeks almost glowing with a blush she can see from thirty-feet away.

 

He laughs at something his friend says and looks away. She stows the box of cookies in her backpack and goes to find her sister.

 

_18 years old_

When Katniss asked Prim what she wanted for Christmas this year, all she said was, “A tree.”

 

She left it a little late. The weekend before Christmas, there weren’t many trees left, just small, straggly little things that would be lucky to last through to Christmas day.

 

But that’s how Katniss likes them. Her father was never able to afford the tallest, greenest, lushest tree, but it was never about the tree itself. It was the memories they made decorating it together.

 

The pickings are slim as she wanders up and down the tree lot’s aisles, but she thinks she’s found a decent one; still green — at least, on one half. They can face the browning side to the wall — nicely proportioned, small enough for their tiny home. Perfect.

 

There’s a cough behind her. “Can I help you?”

 

She turns and finds herself scant inches from Peeta Mellark, dressed top-to-toe for the weather in an orange and white striped beanie and a thick knit sweater printed with a reindeer whose antlers are covered in fairy lights.

  
He coughs again and takes a step back. Her cheeks heat as she realises she was staring. “It’s Katniss, right?”

 

She bites her lip, nods.

 

“I’m Peeta.” He thrusts out his hand for her to shake. “Peeta Mellark. We’re in all the same classes in school.”

 

She takes his hand, tries to keep from laughing. “I know who you are, Peeta.”

 

He holds onto her a beat too long, but she doesn’t mind. When he finally lets go, she’s colder than ever.

 

“You work here?”

 

“Oh, yeah.” He grins. “Just helping out a friend of my Dad’s. He’s paying pretty good money, all things considered. You know Mr. Abernathy, right?”

 

“Uh, yeah, kind of.” You’d have to be buried under a rock to not know Haymitch Abernathy.

 

“So, can I help you, Katniss?” he asks.

 

She nods towards her tree. “That one.”

 

“A fine choice,” he says, and it doesn’t sound fake at all. “I’ll ring it up for you at the counter.” He tips his head towards a makeshift desk. “Do you need help carrying it back to your car?” He looks almost hopeful.

 

She smiles; it feels wrong and right at the same time. “Please.”

 

 

_22 years old_

“I got you something,” Peeta says.

 

Katniss stops stringing the tinsel around their tree and pivots to face her boyfriend. “It’s Christmastime, Peeta. I got you something, too.”

 

He smirks, bends to press a kiss to her waiting lips. “Bet mine’s better.”

 

She laughs. It’s not a competition, something she’s learned over the years being with him, but it’s still true. His gifts trump hers every time.

 

“It’s not Christmas day yet,” she protests.

 

He kisses her again. “I don’t think I can wait,” he whispers on her lips. He drops a small parcel in her hands and takes a step back.

 

She arches a brow as she takes it all in: golden wrapping paper, green silky ribbon, a tree-shaped tag with just her name on it. She aims a smirk at him. “This looks familiar.”

 

“You knew it was me?” He laughs. “Was I that obvious?”

 

Katniss snorts. “Your nuclear flush gave you away.” She tears into the paper with no regard this time — Peeta’s got an industrial-sized roll of the stuff — and finds a white box, again with gold and silver stripes. “I’m surprised you remember.”

 

“What, you thought I’d forget the first gift I ever gave you?” he teases. “Surely I deserve more credit.”

 

She opens the lid, and sure enough, she finds another dozen shortbreads with pearlescent icing. “Down to the last, I see?”

 

“Not quite,” he says. He falls back into the sofa behind him and cracks his knuckles… like he’s nervous or something.

 

She takes a shortbread out and takes a bite. “Delicious, as always. What’s the matter? Was it a new recipe?”

 

“No, not a new recipe,” he says, frowning. “I just…” He stops, sighs. “Take the cookies out of the box, Katniss.”

 

She furrows her brows, but does as she’s told. One by one, she lays the cookies on her knee. At the bottom, a glint of something else golden and pearlescent catches her eye and refuses to let go.

 

“Peeta…” she breathes.

 

When she looks up again, Peeta’s in front of her, down on one knee, a shaky smile on his lips. Before he can open his mouth, she wraps her arms around his neck and tackles him to the floor, destroying the cookies and taking the tree with them.

 

Later, when the ring is on her finger, they recline against the chair with hot chocolate and more cookies, watching the small tree sparkle as they make plans for the future.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked! I'm ally147writes on Tumblr if anyone wants to say hello :)


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